


Obbligato, Act I: Acciacato

by VegaVargas



Series: Obbligato [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Sweethearts, Childhood Trauma, Dimidue, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Political Intrigue, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Time Skip, Psychological Torture, Revenge, Sad and Sweet, Sadism, Suicidal Thoughts, Tragic Romance, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-01-16 12:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VegaVargas/pseuds/VegaVargas
Summary: After the brutal invasion of Garegg Mach by the Imperial army, the Blue Lions are forced to retreat back to the Kingdom of Faerghus with the threat of an oncoming war looming over their heads. Dimitri returns to the capital Fhirdiad to begin the efforts of retaliation, but is instead swept up into an meticulous conspiracy to bring the Blaiddyd reign to a bloody end.Yet in the midst of chaos and confusion, Dedue acts as a tether to reality. The two can't help but become closer as the walls close in around them, but love can can be exploited.





	1. Dolore

**Author's Note:**

> Obbligato  
Act I: Acciacato - Dolore
> 
> Bare with me, I'm starved for Dimidue content so hopefully anyone else out there who feels the same finds this fic somehow. It's going to be an "opera" in three acts, each with any number movements that fit because their romance is the most dramatic, tragic, schmaltzy shit I've ever seen. This will have spoilers for the Azure Moon storyline, as well as a few support scenes being implied to have happened already. If somehow you came across this fic in the sea of FE:3H fics and still gave it a read despite it being a rarepair, thanks so much for your time lol. And for my Dimidue friends out there... bless...

It was a long and excruciating road that lead back to Fhirdiad. The sound of hoofbeats on well worn paths and the uneven clang of steel were accompanied by unprecedented silence for the number of soldiers marching northward towards their homeland. Survivors of the Empire’s invasion on Garreg Mach dutifully followed their young prince’s orders to return to their kingdom, though their hearts were heavy with dread. Many of them had come to terms with the news that the Empire had declared war on the church, but had held onto the belief that the Archbishop and her retinue of powerful warriors would keep Edelgard’s forces at bay. The reality of the stronghold’s swift defeat had still not set in, and the morale of the young Faerghus students was being dragged through the dirt as they unsteadily walked with one foot in front of the other, expressions blank yet horrified.

Amidst the troops as though equal among them was the prince Dimitri, staring wild-eyed into the horizon on an armored white horse. Its reigns were being guided quietly by Dedue, who was marching alongside him. Dimitri’s complexion was ashen, and beneath the unwashed hair sticking to his face he produced cold sweat. It would still be days of travel before they returned to the harsh cold of the home he had always known, yet inside, every inch of him was already frozen.

“Your Highness.” Dedue’s low, calm voice attracted Dimitri’s attention back from the far off place it was ruminating. “You are tense. You must not carry this burden alone, it pains me to see you like this.”

At first Dimitri had no reply. He wanted to lash out and say every cold word that was on his mind, but Dedue was a source of warmth that seemed to melt any harshness that tried to surface. Anything Dimitri told him would instantly be taken to heart, and it was a heart that he had no desire to wound.

“Don't worry yourself. I am only feeling… impatient.”

The conversation was left to dissolve into the cold air like the hot breath it travelled on. Dimitri loosened his iron grip on the horn of his saddle and watched the back of Dedue’s head as he trudged onwards in his heavy armor. Nearly everyone in the motley band was wearily travelling in their armor with their weapons at their side. As long as the ruins of the monastery loomed above them, easily seen upon the massive cliffs it sat upon, the soldiers felt they could be picked off at any moment. It wouldn’t be long before complete exhaustion would begin to set in. 

Just as Dimitri was beginning to notice, Gilbert rode up alongside him.

“Your highness, we can’t continue like this for long, we’ll have to find somewhere to make camp and recover.”

“Yes, of course.” Dimitri shook his head as if casting off a pall. “Of course…”

Gilbert nodded then continued on ahead towards the front of the line. He had been the person to rouse Dimitri from his monomaniacal slaughter of the Imperial soldiers at the battle only one day prior. He had indulged in the urge to slit the throat of any person who walked under the banner of that demon Empress, but Gilbert’s words were able to reach him. He convinced him that Edelgard would not be anywhere near the monastery, and that his effort would be better used in leading the army of Faerghus against her massive forces rather than die alone. It made Dimitri laugh to imagine it, because he would most certainly not be alone. Dedue would have died alongside him, which in the end had convinced him to momentarily retreat. 

“Dedue, how are you feeling? Are you hurt at all?”

“Nothing serious. And you?”

Dedue turned around to face Dimitri once again. Dimitri couldn’t help but smile despite himself when seeing his serious expression. He had instantly changed the direction of the conversation from himself back to the prince. He could likely have lost an arm and still reported that it was nothing serious. 

“I’m fine.” Dimitri replied half-heartedly. “She will pay for what she’s done.”

Dedue nodded, having little use for saying out loud what was already understood. Whatever it was that Dimitri set his mind to, Dedue would move mountains to see that it was done. It had never been through words that his devotion was proven.  
  


After the camp had mostly been pitched, soldiers began to unwind and stretch out their aching muscles. Many who had been too injured to travel had simply been left behind. Only after the dust had settled did the word ‘war’ start to get whispered around the camp. There was a gloomy mood hanging over the site, with the sound of nighttime crickets drowning out the noise of silently weeping students. Mercedes and Annette had taken it upon themselves to go around to the different campfires and take note of who had made it out alive. There were thirty-one, a demoralizing number when compared to the amount who had hoisted their weapons to join the fight.

Gilbert took the role of delegating tasks for different students to do, such as scheduling a watch and collecting and distributing supplies. The members of the Blue Lion where called upon to remain vigilant and try to keep spirits up around the others. Ingrid, DImitri, Dedue, and Ashe followed Gilbert around to check in on everyone personally and see if there was any specific information anyone had gathered, or wounds that were especially grievous. Slowly the group of them began to filter off to where they were most needed, with Ingrid gathering other pegasus riders for scouting ahead and Gilbert using his wisdom from years of skirmishes to construct a sense of order and security. 

Having done the rounds, the remaining three turned toward each other.

“Your highness, err, Dimitri…” Ashe stammered, “I thought I could go hunting in the woods nearby. Perhaps you and Dedue might join me. As it stands we don’t have enough food to last us until Faerghus.” 

“I don’t see why not. Is that alright with you, Dedue?” 

Dedue nodded.

Once the three of them had gathered the supplies they needed, they met again at the edge of the forest. Ashe had worn quiet clothing and brought a bow, while Dimitri had to settle for bringing a javelin. Dedue left behind his armor for regular attire, and brought only a sword and a shield. Ashe began to leave marks on the trees to denote the trail they were taking, when the silence was broken by him clearing his throat.

“Uhm, your highness, we’ve all been worried about you, you know…” Ashe began. His confidence seemed to quickly wane and his words faded into the rustling of the canopy leaves.

“Worried about me? I think we all have plenty to worry about.” 

“That’s true, but… about the Flame Emperor… Edelgard…”

Dedue watched Dimitri’s expression carefully as his mouth tightened and his lips curled in disgust. His breath was held taut, then was released slowly, like dragon’s breath.

“It’s simple. The next time I see her hideous face, I’ll chop it off at the neck.” Dimitri’s voice came from deep within his throat like it was clawing its way out of his mouth.

“But… but she…”

“What is it, Ashe?” Dimitri’s demeanor switched, suddenly rigid and foreboding. “Do you think she deserves any better? Do you have sympathy for that cold-hearted devil?”

Ashe froze, only his chest moving as he breathed, like a rabbit cornered by a wolf. His glassy green eyes looked around for any sort of salvation, eventually ending pleadingly on the towering form of Dedue, standing stoic and unfazed.

“Your highness, I do not believe he said anything of the sort.” He said calmly.

Dimitri let go of the breath he was holding and covered his face ashamedly, shaking his head.

“I’m putting words in your mouth. I’m sorry, Ashe.”

“I-i-it’s nothing, sire.”

Their attention was drawn by a conspicuous rustle of leaves, bringing them to draw their weapons. Each of them frantically scanned their surroundings for signs of danger that they had grown accustomed to. 

“There. Enemy soldiers.” Dedue’s stable voice tied the other two down like a mooring rope to a tossing ship. 

With practiced expertise, the two of them turned their bodies to the direction he motioned and formed a flank, with Dedue and Dimitri becoming a combined deadly unit. Dedue, towering over his prince as an active defense, with Dimitri falling in step with his every move, able to strike from any angle. Dedue’s shield instantly caught an arrow fired errantly in response to being found. The two of them charged to the archer’s position and Dimitri’s spear pierced the man through in one decisive hit. 

Ashe caught a glimpse of a figure attempting to take action and fired an arrow into the flash of red among the trees. He tried to keep up with the pair as they dashed from one target to the next, as a spear of terrifying force and his impenetrable shield. Even though he had seen it many times before, Ashe still felt so small next to the destructive might the two could wield at each others’ side. Partially, he also felt afraid. He continued to fire arrows where he saw an opportunity, but his eyes kept returning to the efficient slaughter from his own allies. Each kill was punctuated by screams, not just from the victim but from the killer as well. 

It wasn’t long before the two of them stopped abruptly. Ashe caught up with them to find one of the Imperial soldiers pinned to the dirt through their shoulder with Dimitri’s blood soaked spear. 

“That’s all of them. It must have been a scouting party by the size of it.” Dedue said, directed at Ashe, as though Dimitri did not need to be told.

Dimitri wrenched the spear in place, eliciting a fresh scream of pain from the archer. He knelt down, his eyes trained on the writhing face of his prey. 

“What foolishness.” 

Dedue put his hand on Ashe’s shoulder to grab his attention, having had his eyes trained on the prince relishing in his torture.

“You should return to the camp and tell the others what has happened. There could be more than one group sent out to look for us.”

Ashe nodded absent-mindedly and started running off in the direction they came from amidst the ringing sounds of anguish echoing through the trees. Dimitri twisted the bladed end of his spear only enough to refresh the stinging pain of the wound, without letting it bleed out. 

“What do you have to say for yourself? How can you sleep at night swearing fealty to that wretched woman?” Spit formed at the corners of his mouth as he spoke.

“I’m sorry Lady Edelgard… I have no regrets…”

“Shut up!” Dimitri screamed, ripping the spear from his shoulder and stabbing forcefully into his skull, “You don’t know her at all! You don’t know anything!”

He continued to hoarsely wail as he stabbed into the corpse over and over, each draw back rending more viscera into the air. At first repetitive words, then a sound more like howling. The stabbing continued until the body was no longer recognizable. Dimitri finally collapsed onto his hands, heaving to retrieve his breath. His spear swayed in place where it was stuck as the sounds of nature unhurriedly returned to their surroundings. It was then that Dedue moved forward to help Dimitri get back on his feet. 

Dimitri’s focus suddenly snapped back to the present. He looked up at Dedue’s leaning figure with blood dripping from the end of his hair, his icy eyes trembling as he looked over his companion’s face.

“Dedue, I…” His voice was soft.

“There is no need to exert yourself any further. Allow me to assist you.”

Dedue produced a cloth and began to gently wipe the streaks of blood from Dimitri’s face. He held his head in one hand while methodically cleaning with a delicate touch belying his heavy, calloused hands. Dimitri searched his face for any sign of disgust or fear, but found nothing but steadfast attention. Unable or unwilling to hold them back, he let warm tears roll down his face. 

“Your Highness, is there something wrong? Should I stop?” 

Dimitri shook his head, then leaned forward to bury his face in Dedue’s chest. He closed his eyes and held onto him tightly. Dedue followed his lead and wrapped his arms around Dimitri’s body as he began to calm down. Flies started to become attracted to the smell of decay in the air, but the two of them stayed in place, holding each other on the forest bed until Dimitri caught his breath. The sun was low, casting a golden beacon across the inanimate bodies strewn throughout the foliage. 

“Thank you.” Dimitri said at last.

Dedue took him by the arm and started guiding him back in the direction of the camp. Dimitri gladly accepted the aid, taking time to recover his composure. For the remainder of their time alone they said nothing, lost in their own thoughts. Even after Dimitri felt stable once more in his footing, he kept ahold of Dedue’s arm in his, enjoying its warmth. When they cleared the forest, the night sky was dark, with only a faint glowing in the clouds, concealing a bright moon behind them. 

Not far from the camp where choked out fire could be smelled, they were intercepted by the concerned watchman that had been expecting them. Even though cloaked in the shade of the darkness, Dimitri endeavored to stay obscured behind Dedue, not wanting to cause alarm with his blood-soaked appearance. The guard insisted that they talk to Ingrid, who had asked him to notify her as soon as they returned. Dimitri insisted instead that he was too tired for company and needed to get rest. 

In the camp, the two walked through mostly uninhabited lanes between tents where the exhausted soldiers had long since passed out. Close to finding Dimitri’s tent, they came up to a still-lit fire, whose occupant jumped up excitedly at the sight of them approaching.

“You’re covered in blood!” Mercedes said in a shocked whisper. “Are you injured? What can I do to help?”

“It’s nothing, Mercedes, I’m going to bed. Thanks for concern.” Dimitri waved his hand flippantly.

“Nothing?” She stomped her foot insistently. “That doesn’t look like nothing to me. Certainly you’re not trying to act brave and hide your injuries. We all have to take especially good care of each other in these coming days. A crisis like this can cause serious harm to a person’s heart, so it would be terrible if we started being dishonest with each other, don’t you think?”

Mercedes had a discerning, honest nature that made it difficult to disagree with her. As a devout believer, it should have been her who was most shaken by the disappearance of the Archbishop and the declaration of war on the church, but true to herself she was mostly concerned about the welfare of the suffering students around her.

“I’m not being dishonest, I swear!” Dimitri took on a defensive, somewhat childish tone. “It’s the enemy’s blood, not mine.”

Mercedes looked surprised, throwing her hands to her mouth with another gasp.

“Oh dear! How many of them were there? It must have been so awful, oh you poor thing…”

It was then that Dimitri realized he had been sucked in to Mercedes’ trap of coddling that she would lapse into when she caught a whiff of something being wrong. It was both a blessing and a curse to have someone as emotionally attentive as she was. Sometimes she would see something bothering someone before they even noticed it, though other times she poked her head in a bit too far and made innocent misunderstandings get blown out of proportion. 

“Please excuse us, Mercedes. His Highness is in need of rest, so we must bid you goodnight.” Dedue said.

Mercedes’ expression mellowed, and she bowed to the two of them, then waved.

“Oh, forgive me for keeping you. Good night, Dimitri. Good night, Dedue.”

After bidding their last farewells, they retreated to the inside of Dimitri’s tent. There was nothing to make it stand out from any of the other small travelling tents that everyone had grabbed at a moment’s notice. They were standard issue for the Knights of Seiros, who had the foresight to have prepared enough to account for the population of students in an emergency. 

It was only thanks to Claude that so many people had been able to escape the massacre alive. He shouted instructions to fleeing students to aim them towards open escape routes and that they should take as many horses and supplies they could manage. When Dimitri thought back on it, he was eternally grateful for the many lives he had saved by being prepared and leading his people. He was also envious of how easily it seemed to come to him, and his mind began to lead him down a dark path.

“I will clean your outfit to be ready for you in the morning. Do you have something else to wear?”

Dedue’s voice broke the line of thinking and brought Dimitri back to the present. He looked at his attire in the light of a candle and saw it painted thick with a muddy red. It had caked into the clothing, smelling like metal and rot. He began to search through his pack for the plain linens within, so that he could change. He wished he could be somewhere safe, where he could wash the blood out that had bypassed his clothing and soaked directly into his skin.

“There’s no need for that, Dedue. You should be getting rest as well. Aren’t you tired?”

“I never tire of doing your bidding.”

Dimitri stopped mid-action to turn to look at Dedue incredulously.

“My bidding? Do I bid you to do things for me?” 

Dedue furrowed his brow, seeming to give it serious consideration.

“I suppose more often than not, it is unspoken.” He concluded. 

“I believe that’s another way of saying you do whatever you think is best for me. That’s what friends do for each other, Dedue. You should accept my help as well, it’s supposed to be a balance.” 

“A balance…” He repeated, running his hand across his chin nervously, “Forgive me, I do not think that I can reconcile that so easily. We are not equals, so we cannot be in balance.”

Dimitri cast his eyes down, returning to his pack with a sense of defeat. All of his pleas to deepen the relationship between them had come up against a solid wall. He could not force what wasn’t openly taken, though he wished for the day when he could overcome Dedue’s preoccupation with his princely status. It weighed on DImitri’s heart to feel so close yet be kept at arm’s length, but no entreaty had ever shaken Dedue’s resolve.

“In that case, I bid you get a good night’s rest.”

“But there are still many ways I could be of use to you…”

“I’m sure that’s true.” Frustration leaked into Dimitri’s voice, but he gave pause for it to simmer. “Still, what I wish for most is your enduring good health. Please.”

“Understood.”

With a bow of his head, Dedue vacated the tent and left Dimitri to himself. The amount of space Dedue left unoccupied in his absence was suffocating. He was large enough that he seemed to always exist within peripheral view. It was a constant comfort to have him nearby, always remaining as inconspicuous as he could be, given his stature, until exactly the moment when he was needed. Dimitri would happily have him always by his side, but his rational mind knew that a relationship with no boundaries was one of obsession, which he knew all too well the pitfalls of. Dimitri returned to his undressing, and quickly found himself unable to stay awake any longer.  
  


Dimitri awoke in the morning to the sounds of distant activity as the breaking of dawn heralded the continued journey to the Kingdom’s capital. Quiet chatter could be heard, unlike the stunned silence of the day before. The people of Faerghus had always been a valiant and sturdy brood, and many of them had endured hardship before. Dimitri’s muscles had mostly recovered, his inhuman strength being owed to his royal bloodline, making his overexuberance the day before of little consequence. He stretched and went through his simple morning exercises before he could fully wake up. 

Once he had, he regretted to notice that his princely garb had been cleaned and folded into a neat pile in the corner of his tent. He hemmed and hawed, but gave in to the situation and redressed in his usual attire, dismayed that he had to do so with his body still yet unclean. When he exited the tent, he was struck once more to see Dedue directly outside, leaning against a log with a thick fur draped around his shoulders. He was awoken by the sound of Dimitri’s footsteps nearby. Dimitri was aghast, but Dedue merely rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and stood at full attention.

“Good morning, your Highness.”

“Dedue…” Dimitri’s eyes wandered around him to gauge his situation. “What are you doing outside my tent? Did you manage any sleep at all?”

“Yes. I only wanted to be nearby in the event that we were attacked again.”

“Well if they had come, don’t you think they would be drawn to the tent with a guardsman sitting outside it?” Dimitri couldn’t help but feel a bit of bemusement.

“All the better. Then I could cut them down right away.” He replied without a moment’s hesitation.

Dimitri could no longer contain himself and burst into laughter. Dimitri’s smile made Dedue smile.

“I have no doubt.” Dimitri said between chuckles, “Still, what were you thinking? It must have been cold, you should have just stayed inside the tent if you never intended to leave my side.”

“I can handle the cold. And after all, I did not want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” Dimitri’s face twisted in confusion. “It would have been no trouble at all, you would have caused me no discomfort.”

“There is also the discomfort of the other students to consider, your Highness.”

Dimitri’s smile began to fade as he was drawn back down to solid ground. He remembered where he was, and what lay ahead of him. Edelgard had ascended the throne of the Empire and once he returned to Fhirdiad, it was only a matter of time before he would do the same and claim the throne of the Holy Kingdom himself. He had been training his entire life for the occasion, but everything had all at once began to crumble around him. The Church of Seiros was instrumental in the independence of the kingdom, and it had in one fell swoop been stripped of its leader. His uncle was not the kind of man to be trusted with a kingdom at war. He had his 18th birthday only a few months prior, and had to anticipate declaring a war when he returned. 

“I wish it were not so.” Dimitri said quietly, to no one in particular.  
  


Once most of the preparations for departure had been made, what had been the commanders of the Blue Lions officers academy met together to discuss their options. Everyone had changed into much lighter travelling clothes for what they expected to be several days of passage. 

“Everyone was very bleak yesterday, but this morning they were much more optimistic.” Annette reported. Mercedes nodded along encouragingly.

“Well, the prince is still alive, and the Empire hasn’t made any obvious moves towards Faerghus yet. You know, that we know of.” Slyvain said, shrugging.

“Alive, perhaps, but maybe not all there.” Felix said sternly, making direct eye contact with Dimitri.

“If the Flame Emperor had designs to take down the church, it is only a matter of time before the Holy Kingdom is her next target.” Gilbert said.

The thought gave all of them pause, none of them wanting to admit that they were in a deadly, precarious position. Dimitri stepped forward.

“I will not stand idly by while the kingdom is swarmed by traitors and demons. Once I have a chance to speak with my uncle, I will implore him to gather our troops and make a direct counterattack.”

The group exchanged glances with each other, none of them appearing to be particularly inspired to partake in a war.

“If that is your wish…” Ingrid began, “naturally, I will be by your side. I have trained my whole life to be an asset to your Highness and my country. It would be a mockery of my knighthood to turn away now.”

Felix scoffed, but the others began to agree one after the other. 

“Edelgard killed so many of our friends with her horrible demonic beasts,” Ashe said quietly, barely audible, “She must be a very cold-hearted person to be able to give such horrible orders. If she’s left to continue her tirade, who knows what all will be lost.”

“If only the professor was with us…” Annette added sadly.

Many of the group hung their heads again, demoralized.

“Can’t we go looking for her? Shouldn’t we? She survived that attack from Solon, so maybe…” Mercedes began.

“No,” Gilbert interrupted, “if we tried to send scouts into a newly captured stronghold they will certainly be killed. Security will be at its tightest for a while yet.”

“If she’s able to organize such a large force in such a short time, she’s probably operating out of Embarr.” Ingrid continued to theorize, “And we still don’t know what kind of connections she has. So many of the things she did at the monastery... we don’t even know her motive was or who she’s working with.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dimitri’s voice boomed, taking the group by surprise.

“I suppose no one else wants to talk about it,” Felix chimed in, “so how was your bloodbath last night, Boar Prince?”

The eyes of everyone cautiously turned to Dimitri, both intimidated and upset. Felix’s comment had heaped the expectation to explain himself, but he had no answer. He looked around at the expectant eyes of his friends, his knights, and a great unhappiness boiled in his chest. 

“Now is not an appropriate time for that discussion.” Dedue said.

“I wasn’t asking you, dog.” Felix spat. “You’d think he was the goddess the way you worship him.”

“Felix, that’s enough!” Ingrid poked him hard on the shoulder. “You’re getting way out of line!”

While Ingrid and Felix bickered, Dimitri took the opportunity to leave the group without saying another word. Dedue followed behind.

“Dear…” Mercedes sighed deeply, “That didn’t go well at all.”

“Well to be fair it’s really just Felix’s fault.” Sylvain said with a big smile.

“Am I seriously the only one who sees what’s going on?” Felix said.

“We have all had our share of difficulties these last few days,” Gilbert said. “Prince Dimitri is only human, so please try to be patient with him. I am sure he will be feeling himself again once he returns home.”

“It’s him being himself that I’m worried about, old man.” Felix sneered, also taking the cue to leave the conversation. 

Dejected, they slowly pulled apart from one another to begin their progress towards the capital. Much the same as the day before, they marched, only at a well-practiced, manageable pace that took advantage of the horses’ stamina. Some of the students fell away from the group to hunt game in particularly forested passages, but kept to tight and trusted groups. Their time learning maneuvers and fighting techniques in Garegg Mach had not gone to waste, so given the small group and light load, they were capable of travelling faster than they expected. A cloudy, dull gray sky promised an evening of either rain or snow, depending on how far North they would be able to traverse. 

The next evening as the battalion sat around campfires to eat and relax, the Blue Lions gathered again to delegate the workload. Dimitri had not attended. Dedue explained that the Prince wanted to be alone, which only drew more ire from Felix. After choosing their tasks, they disbanded in another dour mood. Dedue collected and chopped firewood for an hour or so before going to check on Dimitri.

When he checked at the tent it had already been vacated, so he set off to find where Dimitri had gone. Knowing that he would likely have avoided the camp for somewhere quieter, he searched the outer perimeter until he caught his silhouette looking out into the sky at the scenic edge of a cliff. In the twilight, the edge of the horizon was a pale blue, with the looming moon hanging unnaturally in the sun’s remaining light. Dedue watched quietly as to not disturb him, but Dimitri took notice and turned to greet him.

“Come join me if you like.”

The two of them stood quietly, taking in a sweeping vista of wild grown flora amidst jutting white rocks and tall brown grass swaying in the turbulent biting wind that was rushing through the valley. Birds native to Faerghus could be heard finding their loved ones and protecting their homes. As time passed, their breath became visible in the chilling air. This spurred Dedue into breaking the silence.

“I like it here. Has it helped you clear your mind?”

“I don’t know. My mind is like boiling water, it won’t take form.”

“Perhaps if you say your thoughts out loud they might become more clear.”

“Hmm…” Dimitri struggled to start, “If I were… if I had….”

“Regrets?”

“Yes. I feel as though I was walking around blind. I should have known. I’ve been such a fool… such a disappointment.”

Tiny snowflakes could be seen drifting soundlessly through the light reflecting off the moon’s surface in the darkening night. They were faint and light, as though barely existing at all. Dedue had always hated to hear Dimitri speak badly of himself, but had rarely been able to reach him with his words. Instead he took Dimitri’s hand in his and squeezed gently. It had been something new he had started recently that seemed to remind Dimitri of where he was. Dimitri squeezed back, releasing the tension he was holding in his shoulders with a sigh.

“I won’t get very far, running in circles like this. I feel like a puppet of my hatred. It’s never satisfied no matter how many times it strikes. The sting of betrayal is still so fresh. It bleeds my love, my trust… it’s unbearable.”

Dedue had no reply, instead watching Dimitri’s face carefully. Floating snow fell one after the other into his golden hair, perching on it like a fairy on a flower petal. Dedue could not help but be taken by the beauty around him.

“I shall never betray you. You may feel free to love and trust me with all your heart.”

“Dedue...”

Dimitri looked up and to try to read Dedue’s expression. When met with his steady gaze, he had to look away quickly before he felt too bashful.

“I’m sorry, have I offended you? I spoke without thinking.”

“No, no…” A gentle smile found its way onto Dimitri’s features. “That’s… I’m happy to hear that.”

When he saw the smile returning, Dedue reflexively smiled as well. He was not always successful in brightening Dimitri’s mood, so he relished the moment. He knew Dimitri’s pain would not go away so easily, but every victory was worth its weight in gold. With the sky having turned an endless inky black and the snow having gotten heavier, the bright solitary moon lit them up in the sky like millions of stars sailing silently to the dirt. 

“I must let go of what is holding me back. I want to live in a world where I can watch the snowfall with you, without the threat of war hanging over our heads. I will wrest that future out of Edelgard’s clutches. Then my father… everyone will be at peace.”

There were a myriad of things that Dedue could think to say, but instead he nodded silently in agreement. He did not want to play with Dimitri’s emotions while he was being vulnerable, so the less he said, the better. Though in his mind’s eye, he imagined the future Dimitri spoke of, and dared to pray for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act I will be be uploaded on Friday for the next three weeks. After that the following acts will depend on my motivation to write more. 
> 
> Musical accompaniment:  
String Octet Op 5 D Major by Reinhold Glière (https://youtu.be/7Dd9vqKJOtQ) for general mood  
Serenade to Music by Vaughan Williams (https://youtu.be/QDYi4JgQA2I) for watching the snow


	2. Noblizze

On constant patrol, the band of survivors were interrupted by no more Imperial soldiers before they managed to make it back to their homeland. As they travelled further in toward Fhirdiad, most students split off to separate groups to return to the arms of their families and see that no harm had come to them. They had agreed to return to the capital in a month’s time to join the kingdom’s military force properly and report on any information they could gather from their respective cities and villages in regards to any mysterious occurrences or Imperial interference. No one knew what to expect, so parting words were terse and anxious. 

Only Dimitri, Dedue, Gilbert and Mercedes stayed together into Fhirdiad itself. Gilbert rode ahead of them to announce their arrival to the regent Rufus so that he could be prepared to greet them and have an audience to discuss the events of the siege. 

From appearance alone, the city looked untouched by the events of a month before. Merchants were going about their routine business as though it were any other day. Returning after having been gone for a year made Dimitri nostalgic. The sight of the Grand Cathedral and his home, the inner keep of the castle, brimmed with familiar smells and scenery. 

The citizens of the castle town began to recognize Dimitri and exclaim his arrival. The people of the capital were well aware of the declaration of war, and that a massive martial force had headed to Garegg Mach to seize the church. Given that Gilbert had rode ahead and not been recognized, Dimitri himself was the first witness to return from the front.

Many reached out to him atop his mount with elation at his having survived the attack. As soon as commotion had begun, it grew larger at an alarming rate as the citizens begged for answers, determined to know where fate would take them next. Dedue tried to command people to keep their distance, but since he was a man of Duscur he was either ignored or insulted in reply. Mercedes was so helplessly out of her depth that her horse was guided away, like by the waves of the ocean. After polite response had failed, DImitri raised his voice to command attention.

“Please step aside! I have to report first to my uncle, only then will we address the public!”

Taking advantage of the crowd’s diverted attention, Dedue quickly guided the horse forward through the path of least resistance. Closer to the castle, almost everyone had received the message and returned to their lives with the addition of riveting gossip and theories. Dimitri had little time to recollect himself, as he was greeted shortly after by Gilbert and Cornelia. They were surrounded by a congregation of servants, while other castle staff were clamoring to see the prince’s return from the parapets and arrow slits. 

The servants surrounded Dimitri’s horse and began the work of collecting all of his gear and putting them with his other belongings, as well as taking his horse to the royal stables. Dimitri was quickly escorted to Cornelia’s side as Dedue took his place in helping the servants. Fhirdiad had never been a welcoming place to Dedue, and his only recourse was to remain as unseen and inoffensive as possible. He had grown thick skin in his life, and it was always being tested.

“Cornelia, it’s good to see you. Is Uncle on his way?” Dimitri asked.

“No, I’m sorry to say. Given recent events your uncle has become overwhelmed with the many duties expected of his position. I believe you know them well.” Cornelia said, a strangely entertained expression on her face.

“Yes, your Highness,” Gilbert added, “I went to see the king regent and was told he didn't have a minute to spare. Cornelia has been given special permissions to help with his workload.” 

“Oh…” Dimitri understood, except that he did not expect such behavior from Rufus’ character. Unable to resolve the difference, he decided to focus on the conversation at hand. “In that case, shall I report to you, Cornelia?”

She smiled, shielding it with her hand for modesty.

“Oh, no need to be so formal. You must be so happy to be home.”

The rest of the evening was spent unpacking the chaos of Dimitri’s homecoming with multiple audiences, a bath, an evening prayer in the cathedral, and at the end of it all he was tossed around from one person to the next asking imploring questions about his health and experiences. By night he was exhausted in both mind and body, unable to escape the attention of one person or another regardless of where he roamed. Once he was able to break away, he fled to the place he had spent most of his time in his youth: the gardens. 

They were respectfully large, and were mostly an impressive decoration to draw the eye to statues of the crest bearers of the great royal family of Blaiyadd. In the center of the plot stood an especially stunning piece of Loog that had often been recognized as one of the greatest works of art in all of Fódlan. When he was a small child, Dimitri would avoid the statues, as Glenn had told him that his ancestors could see through their eyes to make sure he was behaving. It had absolutely terrified him well into his early adulthood.

Around the age of 15, after he met Dedue, he would go to the gardens to read to him, and teach him to read himself. It had been a particularly emotional and difficult time, having both only just lost their families. To begin with, they would talk for hours on end, sometimes about a book, or about their day. Some days were lovely, and they would laugh and have engaging discussions, but other days they would cry and hold each other, not having to explain the void inside of them that was bleeding. At first their friendship was tolerated by the court and the nobles, but once Dimitri started shirking his duties to spend more time with him, it was deemed unhealthy and both of them were punished for further infraction.

He knew the gardens would be mostly abandoned, and it calmed his soul to walk among the flowers without distraction. It was the same as it always was, with very little change from year to year. In the darkness of night the true beauty of the display could not be rightly seen, but having a strong memory of it, the reminders in the dark were enough. He was drawn to candle light in the nursery, and looked through the glass panes to see Dedue inside. Though surprised, he was also deeply thankful.

“May I interrupt you?” He called in.

Dedue made no move of surprise, given that he recognized the voice. He put down the book he was paging through and beckoned Dimitri to the bench across from the one where he was sitting. The area was mostly for tending to young or sick plants, so he was sat upon a workbench surrounded by flowers.

“You know, reading by candlelight will hurt your eyes.”

“Yes, I must have lost track of time. A foolish mistake.”

Dimitri chuckled as he took the seat, obliged to finally rest. 

“Please, I was only teasing. You don’t have to be so tightly strung. Don’t you remember how we used to be?”

“Yes, I was an impetuous child. I caused you much trouble.” Despite his words, Dedue had a wistful smile.

“I suppose we couldn’t get away with what we used to. I fear you were punished much harsher than I was.”

“That is not something you should concern yourself with. I learned how to behave with respect through that discipline.”

“Respect…” Dimitri eyes glazed over, “I much preferred impetuousness.” 

There was a short silence as Dimitri sighed, looking off into the distance dreamily. Dedue shifted anxiously, sensing the dramatic change in affect.

“You… wish I would be more informal when we are in private.” Dedue stated it as fact rather than a question. “I make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s not…” Dimitri let out a quick frustrated noise, then sighed. “I’m not uncomfortable. Far from it! Being back here I was just thinking about how we used to talk, the things you used to say…”

Dimitri dropped his words, unable to find the right ones to say in what order. They had similar conversations in the past, but nothing he ever said changed what had been drilled into Dedue’s head.

“Before… when I told you I loved you.” Dedue said, immediately drawing back Dimitri’s undivided attention. “I did not know then how selfish I was being.”

“Selfish… is that how you see it,” Dimitri leaned in, wringing his fingers nervously, “or is that how you were told to see it?”

“I was…” Dedue could see the point that Dimitri was trying to make, “How do you see it?”

“That day… I still remember it vividly. I had just returned from a military campaign that had been especially difficult for me. I had said something very dramatic, something about how there was no love left in the world.” Dimitri smiled sadly. “You said you loved me… and it has given me strength ever since.” 

Dedue stayed very still, his eyes fierce and concentrated. His heart began to flutter unpredictably, as if it were trying to leap at the opportunity.

“Sometimes I wonder if you were only trying to placate me.” Dimitri continued.

“Is that how it is…” Dedue tried to speak impassively, even though he felt a rush, “If you ever wonder whether you are loved, you need only look to me and I will say it again and again. That has never changed.”

“Dedue… how can you say things like that…” Dimitri became flush, his smile starting to grow impulsively.

“I will continue to say it until you are satisfied.” Dedue took Dimitri’s hand in his, “I love you.”

The two of them locked eyes in a mutually imploring look, both wondering what the other would say. Dedue’s steeled, determined gaze thrilled Dimitri to the pit of his stomach. Instinctively, they both completed the distance into a soft, questioning kiss. Pulling back to measure the reaction, they found each other to be much of the same mind, looking back with romantic anticipation. 

They had danced around the memory from long ago when they were ripped from each other’s arms and told what boundaries they were supposed to maintain. Being together alone, older and even closer, the particulars of their stations seemed like a trivial obstacle. In the open they would be sure to be a scandal, but every time they were alone, they were compelled into closeness no matter how high the risk of being caught.

Even so, this had been their first kiss. The second one was immediately after, and held for longer, with the gentle touch evolving into a self-assured lock, as if they knew how their lips fit. In the time it took to separate again, every other thought had drifted away into oblivion. Dimitri was left with a waggish smile, his face flush.

“Is something the matter?” Dedue took Dimitri’s hands with a look of worry. 

Dimitri shook his head, looking tenderly into Dedue’s eyes.

“I’m joyous beyond imagination. I might think myself in a dream.” 

Dedue squeezed his hands tightly, a subtle look of distress in his features.

“As it stands, it is only a dream.” 

“But-” Dimitri began but quickly stopped, looking off in frustration. “No, I should not put you in such a difficult position. Just…”

Dimitri stumbled to try and say what he was feeling, but every avenue of explanation had a mountain of complications. The damaged image of the people of Duscur, his position as a future king, his duty as a man of House Blaiyadd to pass on his crest to the next generation, and the impending war, to name a few. Dedue had always been more pragmatic and realistic, which Dimitri struggled to match. His heart was always brightly beating with raw emotion that he could barely contain, which Dedue could curb like a dam against a raging river. 

Dedue loosened his grip, his large hands holding on lightly, savoring the touch he would quickly be robbed of. For him, every second together was treasured as though it were the last. He had no expectation of the future, as he had long been ready to lay his life down at a moment’s notice. That was until recently, as they started to grow in age and experience. The more time he spent with Dimitri, the more he wanted it to last an eternity. Still, he was able to find solace in whatever form Dimitri’s happiness took. 

“Do not feel burdened. I wanted to make you feel lighter.” Dedue said.

Dimitri’s vexed expression softened into an earnest smile. The candle’s light was burning low, and the only other light was the faint reflection of the moon off the thin sheets of snow dotting the gardenscape.

“You have. I could float away.” 

Dimitri switched to intertwining his fingers to strengthen their bind as they continued to reminisce and talk about nothing in particular. They stayed until the candle burned out, and kissed once more as the ember’s glow slowly faded away, neither eager to let the other go. The reverie was eventually ended as their touch broke off and they went their separate ways. Dedue to his own steward’s quarters, and Dimitri to his royal bedchamber. Both paced around their rooms, reconciling their feelings and remembering the sensations of taste and smell. Then as they laid down to rest, they struggled to keep their sentimental thoughts at bay.

The following morning, Dimitri was awoken by a gentleman in waiting with his change of clothes prepared, as well as a breakfast tray will a steaming cup of strong black tea. Dimitri slowly came to, having never enjoyed the coddling of personal servants when he had long since learned a great deal of self-reliance. He bade the man leave him to finish his preparations alone, and continued with his morning routine as if he had never left. 

After getting dressed and eating, he opened his door to see Dedue waiting patiently outside, having changed into his own clothes and out of his academy uniform. He bowed formally, trying to pretend not to notice Dimitri’s coy smile.

“Your Highness, I’ve been attempting all morning to arrange a meeting with the Grand Duke-- that is-- his Highness King Regent Rufus.”

“You can just say Rufus, you know. Furthermore, you can just call me by my name while you’re at it.”

“Please your Highness, allow me to address you properly when we are discussing matters of the crown.”

“Oh.” Dimitri cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, please continue.”

“The steward said they expected him to be in his drawing room, but the staff said he had not yet arrived. I asked the captain what all the guards had seen of his Highness in the previous days, and they said he had been keeping his whereabouts a secret from the entire staff. They would see him only by coincidence.”

“How strange. That doesn’t sound like Uncle at all. Something has felt off ever since I returned. To think he wouldn’t spare even a moment to see me the whole day through, not to mention hiding himself away from detection like that… what could be going on?”

“This is tangential, but I’ve sent along a message with Felix to deliver to his father. We don’t know yet whether Lord Fraldarius made it out of Garegg Mach alive, but if he reunites with his son, he will know to join us here so we can begin a war council. We should also be informing the other Dukes of our intention to ask for troops.”

“Yes, thank you. I hadn’t even considered that Rodrigue might be…” Dimitri shook his head, his brow pinched.

“I do not think it is very likely, but that is only my opinion.” Dedue offered.

Dimitri smiled weakly, lifting his chin to behold him again properly. He understood that sentimentality could not continue to hold him back if he was to get his revenge, and that in no time at all, people he knew would be dying.

“Alright. We need to figure out what is happening with Rufus and speak with him right away. If he is so preoccupied with his ‘duties’, then why has he not declared war against the Empire yet? Is not an attack on the church just as good as an attack on the Holy Kingdom?” Dimitri tapped him chin thoughtfully, running his brain through the chain of command. “Perhaps the Cardinal has heard of something among the clergy, or we could try to see what Cornelia knows about this secretive business of Rufus’.”

“Your Highness, if I may give my opinion again?”

“Please Dedue…” Dimitri massaged his forehead, “You shall hereby forever be allowed to share your opinion.”

“Thank you. I would use caution when dealing with Lady Cornelia. Her demeanor was strange, and her sudden appointment to a higher office could mean she is connected to his Highness Rufus’ strange behavior.”

“Cornelia and Rufus both acting strange then… it reminds me of the events at the monastery. Do you feel the same way? Perhaps I’m jumping to conclusions. Goddess… how naive to think this would be simple.”

“It is still early, we need information before we can formulate a plan. We could question a few more people of interest and see what we can surmise from there. I’m certain we will discover something useful if we ask the right people. There are thousands of workers in Fhirdiad, so someone must have seen something.”

The two of them, through the captain of the guard, were able to question the specific guards who had mentioned seeing Rufus on their patrol, of whom most identified a worried, finicky demeanor and a hurried pace once he had been spotted. He seemed to be all over the castle and hitting no particular location more than once, as though he was systematically looking through the entire keep for something. Still, no one had heard so much as a single word from him besides his steward, who seemed to have no interest in helping Dimitri with his investigation at all, and was more on the side of not bothering someone who does not want to be bothered.

By the time they had finished with the guards, it was partway into the afternoon, so they stopped by the kitchen to grab some food. Dedue insisted that he make the meal himself ‘just in case’, though Dimitri didn’t look into his words too deeply. He made a simple pork loin roast with a honey and mustard seed reduction and boiled potatoes. The two of them were not alone in the dining area, but most people had come and gone by then.

“This is exquisite, Dedue. Your abilities surpass my expectations every time.” Dimitri beamed.

“Thank you. It’s a common Faerghus dish, I’m sure you’ve had it many times.”

“That is true, but your attention to detail always makes the mundane exciting. Though, you’ve never been fond of Faerghus cuisine, so perhaps you wish you had something more to work with?”

Dedue nodded reluctantly. The two of them began to speak of their time at Garegg Mach, about the fully stocked kitchen with rich ingredients from all around the continent. They spoke of the Kingdom’s poor culinary opportunities, and Dimitri included praise wherever he could. 

After mostly finished, they were greeted by Cornelia, who drifted into the room so quietly that they hadn’t noticed. 

“It’s so nice to see you settling back in, your Highness. I’ve heard that you have been asking a lot of questions around the castle… is there anything you would like me to help you with?” She smiled easily, her eyes lidded as though a great sense of tranquility surrounded her. 

Dimitri exchanged glances with Dedue, not at all prepared to decide what he wanted to share with Cornelia.

“It’s just my uncle. I’ve been wondering if he’s avoiding me on purpose. After all, there is much we have to discuss.” He answered carefully, trying to mask his trepidation with a joking laugh.

“Oh, poor Rufus.” Cornelia answered right away. “He hasn’t been himself ever since the declaration of war on the church. Perhaps it is the sudden weight of his responsibilities, or… hmm…”

Dimitri and Dedue watched her expression with interest as she gently tapped her her finger to her lips, looking off into the distance.

“Well, I am in no position to question his Majesty’s motives, but he seems intent to avoid his subjects. Perhaps he does not want to start a discussion about your ascension to the throne. You have turned 18, have you not?”

Dimitri nodded silently, still unable to grasp her angle. His own coronation was not the most pressing issue in his mind, but he began to ponder its significance.

“Well, this is a momentous homecoming then, welcoming our new king. Oh, what a tragedy that it should be on the eve of war. Oh, but you’ve had your share of tragedy in life already. You must be quite used to it by now.” Conelia’s expression remained unchanged as she spoke, giving no obvious indication that her words dripped with venom.

“I don’t believe anyone gets used to tragedy, except for those who revel in it.” Dimitri answered gravely, unconsciously tapping his finger on the table.

“How ghoulish!” Cornelia exclaimed, “I should hope to never meet with such a person as that!” 

Cornelia bowed deeply and excused herself to her duties. The two of them sat in relative silence, with Dimitri’s tapping droning across the dining hall as they waited for Cornelia to be far out of sight. 

“What kind of a conversation was that… she must wish to confuse me…” Dimitri pondered. 

“She came to the dining hall because she knew you were here. She must have had a reason for speaking with you.” Dedue continued the thought. 

“As far as I know, Uncle Rufus has never dreaded my coronation. He is much more interested in chasing women than he is taxes and rents. Even as Grand Duke he often shirked his duties. If only I could speak with him… how frustrating.” 

“Be patient, your Highness. Perhaps she is trying to rile you into making rash decisions.” 

Dimitri sighed, his incessant tapping coming to a halt. He rubbed his brow, realizing how tense he had become. 

“How I admire your insight… I would be lost without you.” 

“I appreciate the sentiment, but do not diminish yourself to praise me. I will not accept it.” 

Dimitri smiled, which made Dedue smile. They naturally concluded their lunch and continued to the Grand Cathedral where they intended to see what information they could garner there. Unfortunately, there was little more that thin shreds of information to be found. Most members of the church were expecting refugees of the monks and priests from Garegg Mach, and were mourning the disappearance of the Archbishop. 

Since they were already there together, Dedue joined Dimitri in his evening prayer. It was short, and afterwards Dimitri carried himself forlornly, lost in thought. Dedue tried to think of something to say, but was himself troubled. The entire day had been an exercise in futility, with no progress in any direction. Both of them were completely quiet on their way back to the keep. Once they arrived at the gate, they parted ways, vowing to try a different approach tomorrow. Dimitri retreated to the library while Dedue returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner. 

Dimitri tried every avenue he could think to look: into Cornelia’s written records, bringing fresh memories of the plague that took his mother, to the actions of Rufus since becoming regent, revisiting the accounts of the massacre of his father and close companions. In the end, the research did little more than scratch at scabbed over wounds in his heart. There was no inclination that anyone involved had connections that tied them to the Empire besides his stepmother, but that was another dead end. 

He had already attempted to research the events at Duscur before when he was first getting close to Dedue, but the only person alive who had witnessed it themselves was Dimitri, so there was no new information to glean from records about the outside involvement of anyone besides an alleged group of Duscur assassins. The ease at which the blame was shifted still sent cold shivers down his spine, and gave rise to a sick feeling in his gut. Nothing was stopping Edelgard from doing the same thing to him, and it could already be in motion. 

Feeling ill, he wanted to turn in for the night, but a servant soon came around with a tray that held a light dinner and chamomile tea. The tea had long since been one he liked to unwind with on difficult days when he was having trouble with night terrors. One of its curative properties was the fact that it was sent by Dedue, a remedy he offered as an herb, but was also a healing gesture of loving concern. The dinner paired nicely with the tea and was another of Dedue’s specialties, the likes of which could not be replicated by anyone else in the Kingdom. Dimitri attempted to calm himself and enter a more restful mood through the meditation of enjoying a nice meal with a cup of soothing tea. He only wished Dedue had come to join him as well. 

With that, they had the last full night’s rest that either of them would manage for five years to come. Many souls flitted from one room to another, wide awake and scheming. Bribes, threats, and lies exchanged between a carefully woven web looming across every dark corner of the capital. Though Dimitri could have had no way of knowing, the infiltration of Fhirdiad by the Empire had already happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot less fun if you know what's about to happen. In fact, it may be even worse than you're thinking. I wanna thank everyone who is reading, it's been nice to have some kudos and comments to come back to as the holiday season comes closer. Work gets so stressful and busy around this time and writing has been a way to unwind. Enjoy the fluff while it lasts suckers, I hope you like pain.
> 
> **Musical accompaniment**:  
Nonet in F, Op. 31 - 3. Adagio (https://youtu.be/2jF5UbIDjxE) and Octet in E, Op. 32 - 2. Menuetto. Allegro (https://youtu.be/pFP--fkIua4) by Louis Spohr
> 
> Spohr is perfect for Fhirdiad, I think. He has a very 'noble' style but still leans into the romantic era side that I'm mostly sticking to. These two in particular I think fit the castle and gardens as far as atmosphere goes.
> 
> Polonaise no 5 in F sharp minor, Op. 44, CT. 154 by Frédéric Chopin (https://youtu.be/QpbX9GNNVZM)
> 
> I forgot to mention this, but I see all of Faerghus/ the Blue Lions to be represented by stringed instruments. The Empire and anything Empire-related goes very beautifully with piano. For that reason, I LOVE this song for Cornelia. It is truly perfect for her, at times scary and dominating, other times suddenly elegant and beautiful, and best of all, the ending to the main verse sounds like a self-indulgent evil laugh!
> 
> Duo for Cellos, Op. 54 No. 1 in G Minor: I. Allegro non troppo by Jacques Offenbach (https://youtu.be/AIgpRk9H-EM)
> 
> So if Faerghus is strings, Dimitri and Dedue are two violoncellos. I just think it's the perfect instrument for them. I like being picky about what kind of duet fits their relationship at different points in the story. For this part, it's a bit timid, and they are mostly matching word-for-word, pretty much just 'breathing', with one or the other stepping over the bounds and saying something romantic despite the things holding them back. It sounds dumb but listen to the song and I think you'll see what I'm saying. I'll be building on these specific themes in future duets.


	3. Incalzando

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter notified anyone of an update twice, I tried uploading at work and there was a lot going wrong with it so I just deleted it to upload properly later.

The next morning when Dimitri awoke, there was a different gentleman in waiting offering to help him get ready for the day. It wasn’t at all common for specific tasks in the castle to be given over to someone else without some sort of problem having come up, so being cautious of suspicious actions all around him, he asked him why he was attending to him. He received a practiced, vague answer about the other man leaving the castle on another errand. Feeling he would get no straight answer, Dimitri dropped the issue and asked him to leave, so he could get ready on his own.

Also unlike the day before, Dedue was not awaiting him outside his room. His absence was chilling, instantly triggering a deeply unsettling feeling in Dimitri. It wasn’t only that Dedue was his personal bodyguard, but that as an individual he rarely was not beside Dimitri unless specifically asked not to be. He could admit to himself that something could have come up to preoccupy him, but given the current situation, it was an extremely disconcerting change of events. He felt a lurking fear growing inside him like a dagger in the heart, but kept the thought at bay. 

He walked briskly from one place to another, seeing if beyond hope that it was some sort of mistake and not a horrifying reality. He wasn’t in his room, nor in the garden. He feared asking anyone, his castle lately seeming more like a nest of vipers than the home he remembered. He briefly thought of fleeing, to anywhere, but could not reconcile the idea of leaving Dedue’s fate up to chance. He swore to himself that he would always give exactly the measure of devotion he received, and Dedue’s devotion was endless.

Regardless of where he looked, he could find no trace of Dedue, nor Gilbert for that matter, who others said had been sent out on an ‘important mission’ the day before. He tried to appear outwardly calm, and avoided paths with observers as much as he could. He couldn’t help but wonder if his uncle didn’t feel much the same way he did now, hiding away only to realize all of his allies were gone. 

At some point during the day, Dimitri was approached by a squire with an entreaty to go meet with Cornelia in the main hall. He added the suspicious detail that there were many others there who wished for his council as well. Dimitri struggled with the decision to go, but felt his current efforts were getting him nowhere. He had determined through speaking with the nobles in the castle that Cornelia’s new position of power was not one he could simply strip away, but one of influence over others. It was no little matter that from the start she was held in favor by King Lambert and most of the entire country as a savior. Over time, her reputation had been exchanged for social currency. Dimitri felt more determined than ever to see the mechanics behind the conspiracy that sought to tear away his allies and family, so much that he nearly forgot all about the Empire.

When he arrived in the main hall, Cornelia was chatting with some nobles that Dimitri didn’t recognize. Their attention was immediately drawn to him, like a coven of cats noticing the presence of a mouse. Cornelia smiled endearingly, walking over with open arms.

“My prince, it’s good to see you. I’ve heard terrible stories that you haven’t been looking well. Pray, did you have trouble sleeping last night? I know the attack at the monastery must have been quite traumatizing for you. I want you to know, I am here for you if you need anything at all.”

Cornelia moved as though she meant to put a hand on his shoulder, but Dimitri wrest his shoulder away. The reaction made everyone in the room become very quiet.

“Ah, forgive me your Highness. I do not wish to anger you.” She bowed with her hands clasped, as though begging.

“Enough.” Much of what Dimitri wanted to say was too harsh, or too presumptuous, but his patience was being tested. “Where is Dedue?”

“Excuse me?” She lifted from her bow gently. “Your vassal? Ah, I see he’s not with you.”

Dimitri felt tense, sure that he had wasted his time coming to see Cornelia. Instead of spending any more time being led in circles, he turned to leave without saying a word. This time one of the nobles spoke out.

“Oh your Highness, I do believe I saw him.”

Dimitri stopped and returned.

“Today? Where did you see him? When?”

“I, uh…”

The noble was being watched by the dozen or so others in the hall, who while off in their own groups seemed to work as a cohesive unit. Their unity was lost on Dimitri, who also only had eyes for the noble who spoke.

“This morning... I like to watch the sunrise on the parapets, and I saw a carriage leaving. There were many Duscur men. At first I feared for the castle, but they were driving away.”

“Duscur men? And you saw Dedue, specifically?”

He nodded, seeming to calm the air in the room everywhere but around Dimitri. All eyes returned to him.

“I don’t understand…”

His questions hadn’t been answered at all. It didn’t make sense that Dedue would leave without telling him. Only if there were no other way, but even then they had many ways of communicating with each other. When they were younger they often had to keep their correspondence a secret, so Dedue would send him flowers to imply a coded message. While often they were simple meanings, such as ‘take care of yourself’ or ‘you are missed’, there were other times when he received bouquets with an arrangement implying some complex feelings, often poetic in their juxtaposition. When he thought on it, he remembered hearing before that chamomile, when given as a code, meant ‘patience.’ 

“Oh… why I seem to recall…” Cornelia drew out her words to lure Dimitri into them, tapping her bottom lip in thought, “there was some noise a while ago about a Duscur rebellion, was there not?”

“There was, but we persuaded them to lay down their weapons.” Dimitri’s voice was low, but even. Dedue’s message calmed his restlessness.

“Duscur men in the capital before the break of dawn… quite frightening when you think about it. Who knows what they were doing… After all, we know what they’re capable of...”

The nobles around her murmured in agreement. 

“Your prejudice is ugly, Cornelia. You should know I don’t abide that kind of baseless slander.”

Many in the room grimaced or furrowed their brows. It became more clear to DImitri that he was in the presence of a hive of Cornelia’s drones. She played once more at begging for forgiveness, but neither her voice nor the faces in the room showed the faintest sign of sincerity. 

“In fact, I won’t abide any of this. Either tell me where Uncle is right away, or I’ll take my leave.”

“Not to worry, your Highness. You’ll be happy to hear that I’ve arranged a long meeting for you and his Majesty tomorrow morning. I’ve completely cleared his schedule.” Cornelia smiled.

“I see. I’ll be on my way then.”

Dimitri stormed out, not giving even one more glance at the glaring sets of eyes watching him carefully. He knew that Cornelia must have been lying, or trying to rile or confuse him. It was evident in the way her words stuck like needles in his skin, goading him on more with every prick. Whether it had been intended, Dimitri felt reaffirmed that Dedue must have been somewhere within Fhirdiad, if they were trying to convince him he was gone. Given that he couldn’t trust the word of the noble, he decided to check the dungeons. 

When there, the halls of the large underground prisons were eerily silent. It wasn’t too uncommon in the past to have upwards of fifty prisoners at a time, but as he walked around he saw hardly any. When asked, the jailer explained that there had been a big push to empty the prisons through mass execution. He mentioned it was a project Cornelia had come up with in anticipation for prisoners of war. While a good enough excuse for the public, Dimitri could sense the sinister implications. He also confirmed that Dedue had not been imprisoned for any reason, though the reliability of his account was as up for debate as anyone else's. 

By then it was well into the evening without much having been learned. When his anger started to rise, he repeated ‘patience’ to himself and was able to think more clearly. He returned to the church for evening prayer, where he received a hand on the shoulder attached to the familiar voice of Mercedes.

“Dimitri, oh, I’m so glad to see you.” She said, notes of distress in her speech. “Where… where is Dedue?”

Dimitri guided Mercedes away from the crowded pews to an isolated corner far from earshot. He explained what he and Dedue had seen and heard in the days prior while Mercedes nodded unhappily. 

“Oh Dedue… please let him be alright.” Mercedes pleaded, as if in prayer.

“I trust his strength. He is without match.” Dimitri smiled, resting his hand on Mercedes’ shoulder.

“You’re right. How silly of me.” Mercedes smiled too, for the first time since their meeting. “I should tell you, I have been noticing the clergy here have been acting very strangely. I understand this is a very trying time for them, but…”

Mercedes paused to wait for a priest to walk by, watching him timidly.

“Many of the clergy I grew up with have been transferred away. The people I do recognize are different. It reminds me of Thomas and Monica. I’m scared…”

Dimitri closed his other arm around her into a hug, holding her as gently as his strength could manage. She wrapped her arms around his back and buried her face in his shoulder.

“Mercedes… if I’m being honest…”

“No, don’t say it…” Mercedes held back tears. “You have to be strong.”

Dimitri gritted his teeth and said nothing. He was terrified. He held onto her until she was able to regain her composure and lifted her head, dotting her eyes with her sleeves. 

“You should have the same confidence in yourself that you have in Dedue. You simply must pull through. I’ll help in any way I can.” 

“No. You should flee.” Dimitri said, holding her at arm’s length and looking right into her eyes.

“Flee? I could never, not with you in danger! What would everyone think if I left you when you needed me most?” 

“I think it may be too late. I intend to flee myself once I’m sure Dedue is not in the capital. I have to get the support of the lords of the Kingdom myself if there is a conspiracy to stop the war efforts in Fhirdiad. Rodrigue will have unbiased authority over Cornelia when he gets here, and with the other lords following behind we can oust her peacefully.”

Mercedes silently weighed the information in her heart, softly pulling away from Dimitri to pace a bit while thinking.

“But… then can’t we just leave together?” Mercedes had a sad, pleading look on her face.

“I thank you for your concern… but I have no reason to believe the person who said Dedue had left.”

“Don’t you think it’s in the best interest of your enemies that you’re all alone?”

Mercedes’ expression changed from sad to serious, taking Dimitri by surprise though he should have been used to her protective nature by then. Dimitri struggled to rebuff her astute observations, tripping over a few excuses before landing on the one with the most truth.

“But what if… Dedue is all alone?” He said quietly, looking at some spot on the ground in the distance. 

“...I see.” Mercedes said definitively, with a sad smile on her face. “It must be difficult to be apart. Though I’m sure that Dedue wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger for his sake.”

“I know. I know that.” Dimitri repeated, acknowledging that he had no excuse.

“Alright. I can see I won’t be able to change your mind. I can only pray that you and Dedue find each other swiftly.” 

“Thank you. Does that mean you’ll be leaving tonight?”

“If it’s possible. I’ll see what my father and I can manage by nightfall. Please, be careful.”

Dimitri spent the rest of the day preparing his room for the chance of a nighttime invader, devising a heavy blockade that only his abnormal strength could budge for the door. His room had no windows and was high up in a tower, so the chances were slim that someone could stage an assassination attempt without everyone noticing. Before he could turn in and move the blockade into position, there was a gentle knock on the door. A maid was calling out from the other side. Once answered, Dimitri saw it was the maid from the night before with a tray of hot chamomile tea. He thanked her and bade her to leave as he took the tray in.

Overwhelmed with emotion from the day’s events, Dimitri latched onto tea as proof that Dedue must have still been in the castle. He ran the thoughts through his head that Dedue was asking him to remain patient, that Dedue would return in a matter of time. The warmth calmed him, especially when thinking that his loneliness would soon be over. It was a weakness that was joyfully exploited by Cornelia, as his willingness to believe that Dedue was near allowed him to let down his defenses. He had not noticed that the tea was no longer accompanied by a signature dish that proved it was Dedue’s work, even though it was Dedue himself who cautioned Dimitri not to eat or drink anything he hadn’t made himself. It was thanks to this hope Dimitri still held onto that he collapsed on his floor moments later, unconscious.

In the hazy moments before he was completely awake, his senses were disturbed by a great discomfort striking his nose and eyes. There was irritation on his face which he tried to rub off, but only managed to smear further. As his faculties returned, his bleary eyes focused on his hand where slowly he began to recognize the familiar red of blood. Suddenly in a cold sweat, his stomach in a knot, he looked beyond his hand to the corpse of his uncle in front of him. A horrified sound escaped his mouth as he stumbled backwards, noticing his own silver lance protruding out of Rufus’ back. His head was twisted unnaturally as if his neck were broken to stare at Dimitri with his open, dry eyes. 

That’s when the unholy screaming began to sound down the tower and into the sleepy halls of the castle. Dimitri screamed in unbridled horror. It was a shrill banshee scream, ringing and echoing like a frenzied chorus. His whole body shook and he could do little more than try to pull himself away. He was soaked in his uncle’s blood, his clothing still wet and sticking to his skin. The sensation was revolting. His uncle’s hideous visage stared back at him in silent judgement, mutilated almost beyond recognition. Dimitri collapsed on his back, tightly wrapping his arms around his eyes, trying to banish the grisly face that remained mired in the mirror of his mind. He continued his brutal screaming, wailing with all the might of his lungs as if the pain could escape his body if he forced it out.

The sickening sound drew the attention of everyone with the displeasure of hearing it. As people began to investigate, one after the other was accosted with both the intensity of screams as well as the rancid smell of the corpse. Once inside they could see the prince writhing on the ground, painting blood across the floor beside the eviscerated corpse of the king regent. None stayed more than a moment before fleeing the room, off to fetch anyone that could resolve the wretched scene from playing out any longer. Some fled in fear from the outcry alone, and all were sent into panic. Once the captain was fetched, he came to the doorway of Rufus’ bedchamber only to recoil in disgust. He had seen many murders, but was at a loss when beholding the prince heaving with diminished energy, now making a pathetically raspy, unearthly noise. 

The captain took tentative steps forward, his weapon drawn at his side. Dimitri snapped to attention, his face brutish.

“Stay back!” He yelled, his voice clearly broken, but with an edge of feral intensity, “Stay away from me! I’ll kill you if you come any closer!”

Everyone who had deigned to stay and watch the horror unfold plastered themselves against the walls in fear. The captain himself took a step back as Cornelia filtered into the room. She gave one hyperbolic shriek, placing her hand on her forehead as though threatening to faint. The onlookers collected by her side to placate her. 

“You...” Dimitri growled, baring his teeth.

Cornelia shrieked again, throwing her arms up over herself defensively.

“No! Please spare me! Don’t kill me!”

Dimitri’s breath burned in his throat. He allowed his eyes to wander back to the corpse in the room and envelope his surroundings. He felt as though his soul left his body and looked upon the theater serenely with pity for the sad state he was in. In his body, he stared into his uncle’s face, unblinking, watching it as if unable to tear his eyes away. His heart beat unbearably hard, vibrating in his skull. He began to feel ghostly hands gripping his clothing, pulling him up. In his disassociated state, manacles were put on his wrists and he was guided out of the room. At some point he shoved the guards away from him like a bucking horse, but he was pushed to the ground and his legs were bound. With great effort, the guards were able to transport him to a holding cell to await a trial.

It was a cell reserved for noble incarceration, much more akin to a house arrest in a nice room with a locked door and guardsmen. His binds were removed and he was asked nicely to wait for their return. He obliged out of stunned obedience. He felt as though the reigns of his life had been ripped from his hands and he was barreling towards destruction.

Dimitri curled up on the floor, covering his face and staying deathly silent between violent fits of crying. At some point he mustered the energy to remove his disgusting garments and try to wash the death from his skin. The effort it took was staggering, with the sight of it bringing fresh revulsion every time. At times he submerged his entire head in the water and screamed again. As time continued, he began to rip apart the room, looking for a spy waiting to kill him. He rendered furniture into pieces and ripped apart the bed looking for anything that would affirm his fears. 

After his mind had mostly returned to him he began to try to speak calmly to the guards on the other side of the door to better understand his situation. Every question instead was answered by the nervous shuffling of feet. He appealed to their good nature, to his innocence, to beg for absolution. Nothing. As clarity returned, he saw Cornelia’s plan laid out before him like a sick joke. His nature had been used against him. He had his greatest strength perverted into a useful weakness. 

Dedue wasn’t anywhere near the castle. His distance had to be assured for them to have any chance at killing Dimitri. 

Standing in the ruins of the room, closing his eyes, he thought about Dedue with guilt. He had been lost without him after all. He missed him, wished desperately that he might open his eyes and realize it had all only been a nightmare. He wasn’t even sure whether Dedue was still alive, aside from an unwillingness to believe he wasn’t. He had put him in harm’s way by depending on him so greatly. Even when in the throes of regret, he couldn’t convince himself to have wished it to be different.

It had only been five days since Edelgard’s army attacked Garegg Mach and a month since he was brutally betrayed by her. In part, he wanted the pain to end. He wanted to sharpen a piece of broken metal into a spear and stab it into his heart, if it would relieve his suffering. He had always been reminded in times of despair that he was not living only for himself, but for the entire kingdom. Everything he had ever believed in was staked in his life, and its end would mean the end of his ideals, and the future he dreamed of. Instead, he imagined the feeling of his spear piercing the heart of Edelgard and watching the life drain from her despicable eyes. The thought brought him momentary satisfaction.

After hours of silence, a knock came at the door. The captain announced his presence then unlocked and entered the room, warning Dimitri to stand back. Dimitri faced the door, dressed in simple clothes left in the room for prisoners. Behind the captain there was the hint of a large quantity of soldiers in the halls by the echoing sound of clinking armor.

“Prince Dimitri…” He said, unsure of his words, looking sullen, “would you consent to being fully restrained? We would like to do this peacefully, without anyone getting hurt.”

“This? What do you mean? Are you taking me to my trial bound in ropes like a madman?”

This caused a dramatic reaction to ripple through the halls in a symphony of quiet murmurs made loud by their multitude. The captain swallowed hard to brace himself.

“Please… today has already been so terrible… I don’t want things to get any worse.” He pleaded.

Dimitri’s eyes wandered from the captain to the crack in the door, where fearful eyes peered through the shadow in anticipation of a violent encounter. It made his stomach turn. Undoubtedly they had been told what state the prince had been found in that morning: a tidy, sensational picture of a clear-cut murder. If he fought to escape, the only people who would be harmed would be the innocents placed before him to protect the wicked. It was another brilliant trick meant to make Dimitri helpless to resist.

“I consent.”

Dimitri closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing thoughts as guards filtered in through the door and systematically collected him into a restraining coat that tightly tied his arms behind him. it was connected to ropes in front and behind so that he could be guided around without being close enough to attack. He could sympathize with their precaution and felt it had been earned, besides hating the humiliation of being treated like a wild animal by his own people. He knew even unrestrained there would be nothing he could do without the willingness to kill them all, which he couldn’t muster. His only hope was to explain himself calmly in the trial, and perhaps he could prove Cornelia was trying to provoke him and frame him.

They took him down the tower without any resistance, until they passed the main hall that led to the audience chamber and instead began a further descent using the lesser traveled halls reserved for the thoroughfare of the staff.

“Wait, where are you taking me?” Panic started to rise in Dimitri’s voice still hoarse and cracking.

Dimitri planted his feet, halting the progress of the men pulling from the front. Despite his question, they continued to pull, soon joined by extra guards grabbing onto the ropes. The insistence was all the information Dimitri needed to know the truth: his trial was already over. He was deemed too dangerous, or insane, to stand trial himself, and was found guilty. It ripped Dimitri’s heart into pieces and set them aflame. He didn’t want to accept reality, it was too cruel for him to bear. 

“Release me! You’re all being fooled!” 

He tugged the forward men back with a jolt as they tried to keep their grips bundled together in the narrow hall. They started to yell commands at each other to try and relay information with the men in the back, holding him taut in-between them so he couldn’t move in any direction without great force pulling against him. It didn’t stop him from pulling. He wrenched his body forwards and back trying to unmoor the soldiers from their footing, straining and grunting.

“Don’t let this happen! This is wrong! Listen to me!” He began to beg, his voice so damaged it barely sounded coherent.

The soldiers had coordinated a plan of trading grips so that none of them would become too tired when trying to subdue the wild prince. Soldiers who had been pulling him forward from the start had long handed off the rope to someone else, returning to the barracks with a haunted expression. The soldiers were all straining and pulling as Dimitri resisted, sometimes staring at them and imploring them directly. Only a few let go and left without permission, unable to face him any longer. In time, Dimitri’s body finally went limp as his legs gave out. Somewhere in the castle, the sounds of someone mourning the prince could already be heard echoing down empty halls. 

The rest of the assembled men took Dimitri on a long walk to the deepest part of the dungeon where the oubliette was. It was a sadistic punishment intended only for those sentenced to death. Fhirdiad’s hidden vein of cruelty, the part of the Blaiyadd line that craved the suffering of their enemies, was never more evident than in the construction of the oubliette. It was a pit impossible to escape by any means. Sheer stone walls dug deep into the earth with nothing but a locked door in its ceiling, far from any handhold. It was a hole you would throw someone down to die alone in the dark, starved and insane.

By the time they had made it there, the rest of the men, including the captain, had to drag Dimitri’s body like a living carcass. Dimitri had burned through all his ability to resist and instead stared at the wall and contemplated the death that awaited him. 

“Dimitri Alexandre Blaiyadd, you’ve been sentenced to death by beheading in ten days time for the crime of regicide.”

“Why didn’t they kill me…” Dimitri whispered, only heard by those nearest him. “Why was I even born…”

He thought about his beautiful mother, and how he could no longer remember her face before it was pale with sickness. He thought about his father, his head ripped from its shoulders in front of his eyes. He thought about Glenn, shredded into more pieces than could ever be collected. He thought of his uncle’s face, contorted and posed like a meat puppet for Cornelia’s whims. 

He thought about Dedue and his running thoughts stopped. If he had never been born, Dedue would have been slaughtered. His heart caught in his throat and tears beaded at the corners of his eyes. For a moment, briefly, he was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Music accompaniment**:
> 
> Cello Concerto in E Minor, Op. 85: I. Adagio - Moderato by Edward Elgar (https://youtu.be/HXr_XgYkwFA)
> 
> This is a good concerto in general for tense story, with one of my favorite cellists ever Jacqueline du Pré. She puts so much emotion into her playing, it's really fitting for a chapter of Dimitri all alone. If you have the time I would suggest checking out the whole concerto here: (https://youtu.be/OPhkZW_jwc0) it's a really good one. Just gorgeously played, she was a real genius.
> 
> Élégie in C minor Op. 24 by Gabriel Fauvé (https://youtu.be/F3q_HJN51uo) 
> 
> This one is a Mercedes theme, giving her a soft piano in contrast to the rest of the Blue Lions since she was originally from the Empire, but also it just fits her very nicely. It has strong cello too, so I suppose you can think of it more like a 'Dimitri and Mercedes' theme
> 
> Gasa by Isang Yun (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Wg0LIHuGEA)
> 
> Listened to a lot of Isang Yun and Thomas Larcher for the more disturbing bits. This one is good for the discovery of the body, apprehending Dimitri and his incarceration. It's violin and piano, a good discordant mix without losing connective tissue of melody (that comes later lol)
> 
> My Illness is the Medicine I Need - Eat and Sleep by Thomas Larcher (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WQNVBIa3BA)
> 
> Couldn't find a clip for only the part I wanted in particular, so this entire video doesn't 'fit' perfectly, but it's a good piece anyway. If you can find the Rosamunde Quartett's album that features it, it's a fun listen. 'Eat and Sleep' is really what I was thinking when I imagined Dimitri struggling to escape the inescapable. Like I said in the last one, I listened to a ton of Thomas Larcher for everything falling apart.


	4. Estinto

Dimitri thudded to the ground. They latched the door shut, and all was darkness. For a while, he lay on his side and did nothing at all. He tried to catch his breath, but his throat was dry and each inhale felt like fire. He tried to control his breathing and regulate his body to recover the damage, so concentrated on only his body for a long time. 

But time was impossible to gauge. So too was his ability to sense his body. In the darkness there was no distinguishing between what he was experiencing and what he could imagine. He could feel his spine splitting open and reassembling, and felt demons slice at his skin. The illusion of pain repeated like a nightmare, intermingled with the real sensations of exhaustion and hunger. He tried to pry out the stone from the walls, at times his hands feeling like they were someone else's’ as they ached and bled. His flesh prickled and sweat in the suffocating still air, pulled and sliced and ripped apart. He continued to believe every time that he must have already died, only to be roused by the gnawing teeth of a rat.

The echoes of his harsh, savage voice started talking to him. First quietly, as if they could have been his own thoughts, then loudly, demanding, and furious. His father’s corpse strangled him to death, telling him what a failure he had been, and how Edelgard was getting away with the murder of their entire family’s legacy. He was insulted, disgraced, and screaming of Dimitri’s betrayal of his family. Others joined in the flaying, the screams of the damned demanding their justice. When he began to see their dismembered bodies clinging to him, clawing at him, he began to desperately scratch out his eye, falling unconscious from the loss of blood.

When he was able to, he tried to imagine that Dedue would continue to live on happily, but every time he imagined Dedue alone, he felt guilty. He had taken for granted that they would not be together until the end. He thought of all the promises he had made to Dedue, and how his death was the end of all of them. Precious memories that he held dear to his heart began to sting with compunction. With rising dread, thoughts of love felt like easing himself onto the blade of a sword.

Once he was able to imagine the two of them in a world with peace, able to stand beside each other until they had both grown old. No moment was ever taken for granted, and every second was cherished. Dedue would no longer feel the need to use formalities, and he would kiss him over and over, for years, with each one as important as the last. It had only ever been a dream after all. 

In time, he could not remember where he was any longer. He was hounded by voices, and he began to bite back at them, swearing he would rise from the dead to kill Edelgard. He begged for their forgiveness, and prayed for his blood to become a spear that split open her head, his headless body a husk in the midst of a hidden mass grave for all the other executed prisoners. He felt flames consume him, the smoke filling his lungs and choking him with the taste of ash.

He slept for centuries in the earth, liquifying and degrading into individual particles. He poisoned the earth with his body, throwing the entire world into blackness. He felt his body being packed into dirt, tightly packed and degraded, a tangle of inanimate detritus. For a while he lay there, dead, rotting in the ground, before he realized once again that he had not yet died. He would still have to anticipate the feeling of the blade on his neck. He began to long for it. He felt his own head in his hands and wanted to rip it apart himself.

When the hatch next opened, he heard the sound of Dedue’s voice calling from above. The light was blinding and unbearable, so he shielded himself in a huddle. He had heard Dedue’s voice many times, so paid it no heed. Even the blinding light was impossible to differentiate from the darkness. He imagined Dedue was mourning over his grave, and he was being tortured to hear it for having been such a disgrace in life. Once the voice became more distressed, something in his mind began to dawn on him. He imagined Dedue had come to save his life. Before he could imagine any longer, he was in his arms. 

Dimitri was stunned by the sudden rush of sensations, the touch and the smell. He didn’t care whether it was real or not, he only wished it would never end. Even in his delirium, his heart soared, and music played. He wanted to cry, or to speak, but could do neither. He could barely recognize the feeling of being lifted off the ground and out of the oubliette. After they put a cloth bag over his head to spare his eyes from the moonlight, he drifted out of consciousness as the pain in his body overwhelmed him. 

There were many nights of restless sleep, plagued by abhorrent visions and imagined threats. His frail body fought away hands of goodwill in unrestrained fear. He was given food and water, but had trouble keeping it down for long. It was days of patient care that finally found him waking up in a coherent state. A Duscur man he didn’t recognize was watching over him in the back of a wagon on its way down a desolate rocky road. It had become a makeshift bed, with Dimitri swaddled in heavy furs. He was heavily bandaged and barely able to move.

“Where is…” He sat up slowly, putting off his balance. 

He was struggling to regain his sense of space and was quickly light-headed. He glimpsed the horizon with the vision of a one-eyed man for the first time. The man tried to ease him back to rest, but Dimitri pushed him away. He started to notice the cold air on his skin and the smell of fresh air. Things that had been with him his whole life suddenly felt like a bath of comfort. His throat was damaged beyond recognition, but he still tried to use it. 

“Dedue… where is Dedue…” He rubbed his eye, trying to adjust.

When his eye was clear, he saw the man had an expression of vexation. It put Dimitri on edge. Speaking was painful and difficult, but he forced himself through it.

“Tell me.” His remaining eye was sunken and dark, but the blue in it still pierced through like a dagger.

“He was… he had told us…” 

Dimitri stared at him, unblinking and motionless. His hair was matted and tangled, and his physique was skeletal. He was covered in scars and infected wounds of indeterminate origin, laboring to breathe. The sight of him was already pitiable and disgusting, but still he managed to strike fear into the young man’s soul.

“The… oubliette. That’s where we left him.”

“Left him?!” Dimitri growled, his voice a vulgar sound. “Go back. I demand you go back this instant.”

By this time he had drawn the attention of more of the caravan. There were others that started riding by the wagon on their horses to see how the tragic prince was faring. He looked at all of them, a feral anger growing inside of him.

“What is wrong with you? How could you leave him there? How could you?!” 

None of them spoke, instead trotting forward solemnly like a funeral procession. Looking from one to another, each had cast their eyes away in resignation.

“Stop this…” Dimitri’s voice broke into fragments, turning from forceful to tearful. “I will go myself. Stop this wagon or I’ll throw myself out!”

This finally prompted the man beside him to reach out to hold him still.

“It’s been over a week. By now he has long been discovered. He told us… to leave him for dead.”

Dimitri wrest his arm violently from the man, searing with latent pain but still fueled by the power of his blood. He yelled unintelligibly, throwing off any attempt to keep him still from the others who had to jump on the cart to help restrain him. They had been warned that the news would not be taken well. Unable to defend against them all, he began to sob uncontrollably.

“Then kill me… kill me… I’m so tired of living…”

No one made another noise as long as his wailing continued. They had all felt their fair share of loss and heartbreak, so they watched enduringly as old scars ripped back open. Within their silence they affirmed to themselves the words that Dedue had imparted to them the night before their operation to save the prince had begun.

* * *

Back then, under the cover of night, they used Dedue’s intimate knowledge of the layout of the capital and the connections he could still trust to infiltrate the walls. Cornelia had tried to tie him up and send him off in a merchant cart headed to the Empire, but with patience and effort he was able to loosen his bonds and escape the cart. Once he was able to find the nearest town he quickly heard the news of Dimitri’s sentencing. They were able to arrive in the castle only a day before Dimitri’s incarceration was to be over, and he would be deemed weak enough to execute by guillotine. 

Dedue had gathered willing men and women who had vested interest in Dimitri’s life, who also dreamed of a world where peaceful reparation for their genocide were yet possible. Dedue had made a lasting impression on the people of the rebellion, having no trepidation in his belief in the prince and the future he could bring. They filed through plan after plan, but the time for plans had come to an end. At the dawn of the next day, Dimitri would be retrieved and have no strength left to escape his fate. 

There was only a few minutes within the guard’s rounds that the entrance and passageways to the oubliette would be unwatched, and removing the guard in any capacity would alert the entire castle. Fhirdiad had always had a reliable and strict perimeter watch, so every move had to be calculated to the second. Even the act of hoisting someone out of the oubliette was scrutinized, but there was little opportunity to extract more than one. It was already nearing daybreak, and time had simply run out.

“I will stay.” He said at last, as he watched the moon sink impatiently.

They protested, offering suggestions on how he could be retrieved. Dedue raised his hand authoritatively, bringing them to silence.

“No more argument. I have always been prepared to die for his Highness.” Dedue spoke undisturbed to the faces of discomfiture around him. “We are wasting precious time. We will extract the prince and you all must be as far as possible before I am discovered. I will do whatever I can to stall them further.”

“But when he wakes and realizes you are gone…” One of them murmured.

Dedue’s stony expression showed signs of failing, but the lack of composure didn’t last long.

“He will be… upset… but his life must continue. No matter the cost.”

Having been understood, there was no more discussion about an impossible second rescue. If they had more time, it would have been a simple matter, but Cornelia had made sure that nothing would be simple. 

Dedue had been correct, in that once his life was removed from the equation, the rescue mission was flawless.

* * *

Once Dimitri had more time to heal, his demeanor changed. He spoke to no one and made little effort to do anything at all. He began to be able to feed himself and dress his own wounds, so spent as much time as he could alone. At night when the others were asleep, he would sometimes let out high-pitched whines like that of a wounded animal. Other times he would laugh uncontrollably until his breath gave out. Any time that sleep came to him, he would awake with a blood-curdling scream, lashing out in an attempt to repel the demons threatening to pull him back into the ground. The people of the Duscur rebellion did not complain when he started sleeping far away from the settlement.

After Dimitri had most of his strength returned, he began to spend his waking hours training. The caravan had returned to an area hidden in the mountains that the rebellion had taken refuge in. It was defensible from large forces by its natural sheer cliffs and freezing cold temperatures. It had been in those mountains that Dimitri had spent much of his early childhood training his strength. Even then he was alone, freezing to death in the frigid cold of the night, just to prove his worth to his family. They spoke to him still, pressing him to kill Edelgard, and to destroy the empire, even if it was by his spear alone. They goaded him, taunted him, and commanded him to no end. 

After months of recovery and little to no contact with the rest of the group, Dimitri began to wander further and further away wherever his feet took him. The place where his eye used to be had finally healed over completely, and he had mostly adjusted to fighting with his altered vision. Even with practice, he could not account for the large blind spot that only made him more paranoid of what lurked just out of reach of his sight.

One clear day in particular, he was hunting game in a flatter area as the mountain began to even out towards the north. He had his stomach to the ground, lying in wait to lunge and kill, when he caught sight of a familiar flower growing in the desolate tundra. Dimitri brought the flower close to his face. He looked at it forlornly, bringing stillness to his world around him.

* * *

It was Dedue’s 16th birthday, at the very end of the Verdant Rain Moon, but he hadn’t appeared in the gardens to meet Dimitri at the time he promised. He had only known Dedue for a few months, but Dimitri had wanted to celebrate his birthday between the two of them, especially since he knew that otherwise he would not have celebrated at all. 

After waiting a bit, he looked in the servant’s quarters where Dedue had been staying. He was met with the other servants’ courteous scolding, insisting that he shouldn’t associate with a person from Duscur, and that he would be better off not spending time with him.

Disregarding the unwelcome advice, he continued to search across the courtyards and rows of hedges. He was drawn to the sounds of quiet crying that he unfortunately recognized. When he turned the corner, Dedue had a hand over his eyes, unsuccessful in stopping the flow of tears. 

“Dedue, what’s wrong?” 

Dimitri quickly ran to his side. Surprised, Dedue’s wet, red eyes beheld him with a quivering lip.

“Dimitri… I am sorry. I- I know you wanted to see me today, but…” He tried and failed to speak with an unaffected voice.

“Forget it. Tell me what happened.”

“It is nothing…” Dedue began, but Dimitri grabbed on to his hand tightly, insisting. “It… it is stupid…”

“Has someone hurt you? Has someone said something awful? I won’t stand for it!” Dimitri said, his eyes glimmering with wetness of their own.

Looking into his face, Dedue paused, and then broke out into a smile, much to DImitri’s confusion. Dedue wiped away at the irritation in his eyes and pointed at the destroyed remains of some kind of flower at his feet. Dimitri couldn’t recognize it.

“I had brought some seeds from Duscur. I thought I might plant them here to… make it feel more like home.”

As he began to explain, the picture became clear, though Dimitri waited to hear it in Dedue’s words.

“It was starting to grow. It is a very different kind of flower than the others here, so I suppose it stood out. Someone must have noticed it and… taken some offense.”

“That’s wretched… taking out your anger on a flower. How infantile.”

Dedue laughed, befuddling Dimitri further. 

“How could you be laughing now all of the sudden? You looked so sad just a moment ago…” Dimitri asked frantically.

“The swiftness at which you come to my defense… it has got you into trouble many times, but you still stand by me. It’s just that… you…” Dedue’s words slowed as his face began to redden. “You are very kind. It makes me forget my sadness.”

“Oh.” Dimitri had little to say. It had only ever been second nature to him. “What does it mean?”

“Hm?”

“The language of flowers, you know… like you’ve been telling me.”

Dedue looked at the scattered remnants of the budding flower in resigned dismay.

“Nothing. The language of flowers is a noble tradition, so a foreign flower like this would never be used. I fear any maiden would receive it as some kind of insult.”

“Don’t say that. That only means no one has come up with a meaning yet. Why don’t you give it one?” Dimitri smiled, which made Dedue smile.

“I see.” He gave it some thought. “Then… gratitude… for being understood.”

“Oh, yes, that fits perfectly. That’s beautiful, Dedue.”

At some point in the conversation they had begun to hold both of each others’ hands, looking into each others’ eyes.

* * *

Later in the night, as the snow started to fall on the frozen peaks of the isolated mountain, Dimitri left the vicinity of the settlement and never returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this is the end of act 1, I hope some people enjoyed it! I don't currently have any plans to post act 2, I've written into it a bit and I'm not sure how I feel about it. It would take place in the space between the reunion at Myrrdon and the taking back of Fhirdiad, so it tries to handle Dimitri's mental illness, and I can only do so much as an amateur writer. I will likely work on it when I feel motivated/inspired and start posting it after I've finished the whole act and feel at least mostly satisfied.
> 
> I started this story pretty much writing only for myself, and because there wasn't much content out there, but since I started I found a lot of good content, so I'm not sure if I'm adding much of value to the conversation. That's why I'll likely only continue to write if I feel like I have something I want to explore personally. It would be a shame to leave the story on such a dour note, but I don't want to rush and upload something I don't like at all.
> 
> Until we meet again, thanks for reading. 
> 
> **Musical accompaniment**:
> 
> Winter Bird by Toshio Hosokawa (https://youtu.be/cEsD3XNR5QQ)
> 
> Here is the song I listened to for the oubliette. It's sharp, discordant, screeching, and 14 minutes long. So put on some noise cancelling headphones and listen to it in a dark room like I did! Gasa by Isang Yung is also an exemplary piece that I was using before I found Winter Bird. Check it out if you're a masochist!
> 
> I sought him but I found him not by Boris Yoffe (https://youtu.be/BaxMkF020xs)
> 
> Post-rescue Dimitri music. Sad, drawn out strings alongside eerie vocals. Not even a quarter as hard on the ears as Winter Bird, but still mostly not very melodic. 
> 
> Duos for Two Cellos, Op. 54 No. 1 in G minor: II. Adagio by Jacques Offenbach (https://youtu.be/QLGpPv1sUl8)
> 
> This one is another duo for the boys, this time as teenagers in the past. This one is a bit more quiet, unsure, sad, but still in sync and playing in harmony. I really love this song for them, if I had a single 'this is their song', it would be this one. 
> 
> Khovanshchina, Act III: Spit streletskoye gnezdo by Modest Mussorgsky (https://youtu.be/qenwh_Hd5R4)
> 
> End of act 1. This here is a real opera, and one of my favorite songs of all time. Coincidentally it is also a tenor singing a sad song with absolute conviction about dying for his country. If this were an actual opera, Dedue would be singing this alone in the oubliette right before the curtains close.


End file.
